The Final Battle
by Fallen Althea
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, and must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help.
1. Turn Back Time

Title: The Final Battle  
  
Author: Althea  
  
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter! I own Harry Potter! Oh, what's the use?! Ever heard of the saying that if you repeat what you want over and over again, it will eventually come true. Well, it doesn't seem to be working this time. They belong to the wonderfully talented J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies. I do not own the characters, only the plot. This is just my pathetic attempt to impersonate our lovely HP author/creator. Oh, and I also BORROWED a few quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and the fabulous HP fanfic, the Draco Trilogy by Cassie Claire. Don't worry, I'm going to return them back when I'm finished playing with them. And it's not that much. If you want to read her fantastic fic, you can find it at fictionalley.org. But then, after you do read it, you'll think this fic is just a piece of crap compared to hers. Oh, well. And also thanks to that beautifully written fic "The Price" by Bellemaine Chercoeur. It's a Hermione/Snape fic which I honestly think is disgusting but the writing is just perfect and brilliantly done that I couldn't help reading it anyway. I got the idea for this fic from hers and also borrowed a few quotes and scenes. Don't worry, this story DO have dialogues and scenes originally done by me.  
  
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, with the help and support of the other houses. Set on Harry's 7th year in Hogwarts, he must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Spoilers: All four books, plus the mentioned fics above, if you're planning to read it.  
  
A/N: Harry is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team while Hermione is Head Girl and Ron is the Head Boy, only because Harry turned down the opportunity, fearing of becoming too busy of being captain, so Professor McGonagall just made him prefect. Draco Malfoy is also the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and also a 7th year Slytherin prefect. Lupin is again the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, much to the annoyance of Snape. Oh, and my sincerest apologies if this fic doesn't sound too British. It is because I'm not from England and know nothing about how they speak and act. Feel free to let me know the proper words for certain terms. And please Read and Review!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The End of Days  
  
Chapter One: Turn Back Time  
  
  
  
Bitter and copper-like smell. That is what her blood tastes and smell like. She knew that now. It's not really the first time that she got to taste her own blood but she never really had an experience where she can taste her own fear and terror in herself and the others around her, quivering and shaking in mortal fear and mortification. Shivering in the coldness of the enormous room that they were in. The room that once stood for its warmth, in where the students' joyful memories and lively reminiscences were made. The Sorting Hat Ceremony, the House Cup Award and the uncountable times that they spent their breakfast, lunch and supper in this gigantic hall.  
  
The Great Hall it was called, and truly great it is. With ceilings as high as the eye could see and spaces as vast as a bottomless pit. The great hall was the heart of Hogwarts and it's one of the places most loved by the students. But in moments, everything had changed.  
  
A scream of denial, torn from a heart that stopped beating in that fatal instant, echoed across the grand hall of Hogwarts. From beneath upturned tables and charred house banners, the pitifully small number of students who remained alive watched in varying degrees of dulled horror as again, one of their own schoolmate and friend stumbled, then toppled backwards, knowing that they could be next, suffering that inevitable and horrible fate. Colin Creevey, one of Gryffindor's own, fell hard and landed on the cold stone floor, his eyes still open wide as if he didn't know and could not believe what was really happening to him.  
  
Hermione Granger felt as tears filled her eyes as the wasted young lives of her fellow schoolmates lay before her. Cut down at the very start of their lives, a whole generation of Britain's best and brightest wizards gone forever. So many of them had been her friends, so many of them had looked to her for guidance, for safety and for leadership. And in that crucial moment, when Voldemort had stormed into the room with a number of Death Eaters, she had frozen. Her fear, terror and uncertainty overcame her causing her to lose all her presence of mind and wit.  
  
Dozens and dozens of Death Eaters filled the grand hall surrounding the whole student body and blocking all the doors in and out of the room so that nobody could even try to escape. They took up position about the hall, forming a chain of death around the walls. They moved as one, as if they already rehearsed their placement at Voldemort's basement. This all happened very sudden that some of the students didn't even have the time to react to what was happening in front of their very eyes.  
  
Moments ago, students and teachers are simply enjoying a peaceful breakfast at the great hall, the students quietly talking about, and anticipating excitedly the Quidditch championship match between the houses Slytherin and Gryffindor that was supposed to happen that afternoon.  
  
The match obviously never happened because at this very moment, Voldemort himself is standing at the front of the hall, watching the chaos and destruction took place, a smile threatening to show on his thin, pale lips. He observed the devastation and the damage made by his minions with pleasure, as if he was watching a very amusing scene where ordinary wizards should laugh about.  
  
Hermione hated him more for that. She hated him for his capacity to not care about people's lives. He deals with their souls as if they were nothing but mere irritating dust flecks that brought him nothing but annoyance, and so they will be better gone than to have them bother him more.  
  
Dumbledore had risen, and his sheer command that all the students remain seated and not panic is instantly obeyed. Nobody moved in fear that they could be next to feel the pain and the sting of a Killing Charm that the Death Eaters are flinging everywhere. Hermione could see how hideously outnumbered the teachers were. Apart from Voldemort himself, there are about more than fifty Death Eaters striding down the aisles  
  
"You dare to disturb the halls of Hogwarts? How dare you to pollute this place with your foulness?" the stern and measured voice of the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore did not hide the depth of his anger or the strength of his determination, but strangely enough, his face bore no more other than complete calmness. "How dare you face us all, Voldemort?"  
  
"This is my school and I will do as I please, my dear Dumbledore." Voldemort's voice was as cold as ice and as slick as oil. A voice that could have been very pleasant to hear, if it's not from the lips and face of the most feared evil wizard in the wizarding world. He swept a contemptuous look at the row of teachers at the front of the hall, who are looking tough and valiant, or at least trying to, even though Hermione knew that they were quivering underneath that facade. Pity that the most courageous, useful and best teachers that there is at Hogwarts are nowhere in sight. Their Transfiguration professor, Professor McGonagall is missing and so is Lupin, their Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. Professor Snape, the potions master and the head of the Slytherin house is also missing in action for some reason that the students could not fathom.  
  
What will become of the remaining number of alive students in the great hall, Hermione thought, is anyone's guess. This may be the end of them all, as one might say concerning the hopelessness of the situation, or this may be just the beginning of more horrifying events that could take place, like the opening scenes at movies, just readying the watchers for the more atrocious actions that's going to happen.  
  
"It is only one boy that made me visit your little school, Albus." Voldemort continued. "Only one boy to kill and I'll be on my way, don't worry. Your castle will be left in one piece, you have my word for that. Although I'm not sure if there is going to be anyone alive left to make use of this school. Can you imagine it? No students, no teachers, no school! Such pity I feel for the immense lot and ground that this castle has. And such good location it is built with! Now I'm thinking of making this my own castle after I'm done with it and with the pests inside it terminated. After all, a Dark Lord needs a castle to reign into."  
  
"Over my dead and decaying body, Voldemort!" the headmaster shouted with rage causing the students and the teachers alike to gasp in surprise and admiration.  
  
"That could be arranged Dumbledore." Voldemort replied looking as cool as ever, not even flinching a bit at the headmaster's sudden outburst. "That could definitely be arranged."  
  
Seconds passed by with no sound coming out of Dumbledore or Voldemort, their eyes just glaring and frowning at each other, with the students and teachers similarly just staring and waiting in vain for whatever actions or dealings that may come. Voldemort has this amused and confident smug look on his face that strikes the students peculiar, as if he had already succeeded in what he came for and just pleased with the fact that he is annoying Dumbledore greatly and terrifying the students and teachers alike beyond their capacity to hold it all in.  
  
It was the ever present and perpetually loyal Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy who broke the ear piercing silence of the great hall.  
  
"My Lord, it just occurred to us that nobody has seen Mister Potter anywhere in the vicinity. The child is nowhere in sight." Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and bowed low, bending his knees in the process. Not surprisingly, in Hermiones opinion, Lucius is the Dark Lord's right hand. Well, who else could it be? Generations and generations of Malfoys have been involved in countless dark arts activities that it's no wonder that Lucius is still Voldemort's most trusted Death Eater, even after he was brought to life again. And Hermione wouldn't be surprised to find out if he is the one responsible of bringing the Dark Lord's reincarnation.  
  
"Are you sure?" asked Voldemort, his eyes turning into a fierce shade of dark red. Hermione reckoned that the mere sound of his mortal enemy's name affected the Dark Lord already. "Have you checked the pile of bodies at the corner already? Maybe he got hit by one of the Killing Charms that you keep hurling around, got his face all bloodied and got buried underneath all that useless remains that you just didn't recognized him."  
  
"I. err." Lucius, who obviously didn't realize that concept or just altogether incapable of dealing with Voldemort's sarcasm, stammered. His once mighty and powerful appearance fading a bit to reveal a squeaking, cowardly sort of a man. This, as Hermione could see, brought Voldemort great amusement.  
  
"Oh, never mind! You are such fools!" Voldemort snapped with great exasperation. He then turned and set his eyes on Dumbledore, who is eyeing him back with great contempt. "Dear Dumbledore, you wouldn't mind telling us where our infamous Mister Potter is, would you?"  
  
Hermione unconsciously scanned the vast area of the great hall, looking for a sign of that browned haired, spectacled boy. She remembered the very first day that they met, as if it was just yesterday. It was at the Hogwart's Express that she first laid her eyes on that somewhat awkward and timid boy. She admit that he wasn't really that attractive as some, if someone might compare him to, say Draco Malfoy, with his hair as fine as silk, as golden as the rising sun, his face as pure as porcelain. But there is something in that boy that strikes her heart. Maybe it was his ever- present courage, determination and his pure heart that makes everybody that he met fond of him. But where is that boy?  
  
A thread of fear crept down her spine as she tried to think of what happened with her best friend and loyal companion. He had not attended their breakfast that morning and considering his luck or misfortune, that he was not present the moment Voldemort stormed through the great hall with numerous Death Eaters, creating mayhem and confusion everywhere, she couldn't help but think that something bad had happened to him. And that uncertainty was a worse feeling than being trapped in a room being ruled by the most feared wizard of all time. She couldn't bear to think of what might happen to her and even Ron if Harry was to leave them forever.  
  
"Why would I mind?" Dumbledore replied, a small superior smile forming at his lips. He seemed to be enjoying the battle of wits that he and Voldemort are performing despite of the circumstances. "Assuming that you are just planning on killing him and all that to show the wizarding world your power and greatness by murdering the only wizard who defeated you in his first year of age, I don't see the reason of why would I care?"  
  
Voldemort raised an eyebrow and looked towards his Death Eaters. He was preparing to make some pithy and arrogant comment, Hermione thought savagely, when suddenly, Dumbledore raised his wand and directed a minor spell, hurling it at Voldemort's face, just to throw him off guard.  
  
As it if was an unspoken signal, the Professors attacked as one, disarming death eaters, wreaking havoc amongst them. They stormed through the hall as Voldemort staggered sideways away from them. Hermione joined them, pulling students towards the center of the hall as quickly as possible, pushing the youngest furthermost under the tables, and placing the seventh years as an honorary shield about them. Every single person had their wand in their hand, ready for battle.  
  
The screams of the dead and dying mixed with the battle cries, weeping and pain. Countless students were injured, their blood being spilled in all directions, the sound of their cries overcoming the rage of the opposing party. The Death Eaters were not disarming, they were killing.  
  
Hermione wondered if it would make any difference if Harry was here, fighting at their side, disarming more Death Eaters than any of the other students were doing. Would it be any different if he was with them, protecting their backs and saving them from near fatal strikes of various Death Eaters? Maybe, fewer students would be harmed and more would be saved with the illustrious and legendary Harry Potter fighting with them against the evil Dark Lord. He was, after all, Voldemort's actual mortal enemy and the reason for all this. Hermione knew how Harry would react to what was happening once he finds out about it. He would blame himself for being so stupid and he would think that the attack was his own fault even though nobody is really blaming him for anything that he hadn't done. But even with all that, Harry's guilt and his inevitable death if he is present right now, Hermione still wished that he was by her side, even after what had happened over the past seven days.  
  
Seven life-altering days. Just a month ago, if somebody told her that her life could change for the better or worse in just a week or so, she would have laughed at their faces, telling them that they've been reading too much wizarding pocketbooks. If somebody was to say to her that her whole relationship with her best friends and mortal enemies will be changed forever in a span of just a week, she would have thought that they were crazy.  
  
But then, who knew that it could really happen? Even this morning is life- altering enough to overcome those perilous days that she went through. But strangely enough, she would rather choose to relive this horrific event than experience again the heartache and the emotional loss that she had just encountered.  
  
If only she could turn back time, maybe everything would be all right. Harry wouldn't be mad at her, Ron would not be felt betrayed, none of this would have happened. But then she wouldn't have experienced the growth of their friendship and she still wouldn't have understood other people's real inner feelings and individuality. People that she thought, was just capable of making the people around him feel like living hell.  
  
Oh, what she would give to relive those good old days where everything seems easy and simple. When they all thought that they would be always friends forever no matter what happens, that nobody could ever take their friendship away from them. It seems too good to be true at the moment, and it is probably to good to be true.  
  
Somewhere in between, these weird, sudden, but strong feelings for Harry overcame her need for just friendship. She selfishly wanted more than that. She usually finds herself feeling jealous of the various girls from every level who keeps coming up to Harry and flirting their heads off, twirling every stupid lock of hair attached on their moronic heads. A variety of cleavages and legs keep flinging themselves in front of Harry's eyes. Even with the long and thick black robes that they're supposed to be wearing, up until now, Hermione still could not figure out how these girls managed to show it off.  
  
It really hurts to fall in love with your best friend. The one who think of you as the sister that he never had. They've been through hell together and back and Hermione was prepared to ignore all her sick and ridiculous feelings towards Harry, no matter what it takes and how hard it is going to be. But surely and unexpectedly, destiny and fate has something more and different in store for both of them that neither predicted nor even wished for.  
  
Suddenly the room was illuminated by sullen green light, a sickly corrupt color that turned the stately hall into a creepy and cavernous waste. Voldemort had risen from his hiding place like a gracious king rising from his throne. He seemed to be calling all his Death Eaters' attention to him and for an instant there, everybody just watched in awe Voldemort do magic, more complicated and powerful than any of them ever expected.  
  
He raised his scaly hand with his long, pale and articulated fingers up in the air and said an incantation over and over again, his voice becoming more and more intense until he was shouting it more than saying the spell.  
  
Hermione saw Dumbledore, standing just a little behind the Dark Lord, reciting some strange language that she couldn't hear nor understand. She supposed that the dear headmaster knew what kind of spell Voldemort was casting and he was saying a counter spell to it. It was obvious to all that the hex was powerful and very deadly, whatever it is.  
  
As the tension rises and the incantations on both parties become more intense, the ground of the great hall started shaking and small debris from the ceiling of the great hall began to roll down to the wrecked floor of the room. A few seconds after, every one of them felt this stinging sensation at the base of their stomachs, making them wither in pain and agony. The anguish was indescribable that screams of pain and denial tore through the walls of the great hall.  
  
Her hands pressed close to her stomach, Hermione felt herself falling backwards and was unable to stop herself. A thought about how hard the cold flagstones were going to feel when she landed on them, spun through her mind. She felt herself caught by someone and gently lowered to the floor. She forced her heavy and closing eyelids to remain open as she took in the carnage about her.  
  
She can see, through her half opened eyelids, even the teachers are not immune to it and they to were screaming in agony. Only Voldemort and the Death Eaters are the ones who seem unaffected by the spell and even happy and amused about what was happening. The Dark Lord had this peculiar smirk on his face, a strange expression that Hermione would never have thought to see on his face. A smirk seemed almost too petty, too human for someone as evil as him.  
  
Again, her thoughts turned back to her dear Harry. Wherever he is now, she knew that it has definitely better conditions than this one. Her hands still clutching her stinging stomach, she suddenly imagined what will happen if she was the one who's going to be leaving her loved ones and not the one whose going to be left behind. She couldn't help thinking about how sad it is going to be if she would pass away, not being able to tell Harry and Ron that she's sorry. for everything she did and everything that had happened to them and to their friendship, and not going to have had that much needed proper goodbye to her dearest friends.  
  
Such pity that she felt her life slowly giving away into the pain and her vision dimming. She silently sent a prayer for all of them as her last breath escaped her and before everything turned into black and everything she knew disappeared into nothingness.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~~~~*~*~*~~~~~~  
  
  
  
A/N: Next chapter: We find more about those days that Hermione was talking about by means of flashbacks. We see Ron's standpoint on the attack and everything else. Draco, Harry and Ginny finally have roles. For those who are not H/Hr shippers, please don't stop reading. This is not an h/hr shipper fic, just keep an open mind and you'll eventually find out what I'm talking about. And I promise that the next chapters are going to be a lot more cheerful. And please! Read and REVIEW! 


	2. Truce

The Final Battle  
  
Disclaimer: Do I look like the owner of one of the most influential and illustrious books ever written in history? No, I don't think so either. J.K Rowling and several publishers own the rights to Harry Potter etc. etc. As if you didn't already know. All hail Rowling! This is just my feeble attempt to write a HP story while book 5 is still nowhere in sight. Roll on Vol. 5! Various quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and the Draco Trilogy by the infamous Cassie Claire can be found in this chapter. The chapter title is also from Buffy.  
  
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, with the help and support of the other houses. Set on Harry's 7th year in Hogwarts, he must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help. In this chapter, we find more about those days that Hermione was talking about by means of flashbacks. We see Ron's standpoint on the attack and everything else. Draco, Harry and Ginny finally have roles.  
  
Pairings: they're complicated, really. H/hr hr/r hr/d d/g h/g no slash  
  
Spoilers: For all four books. And also there's this mild scene that I borrowed from the story Draco Veritas from Cassie Claire as I mentioned on the first chapter. I hope you all don't mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Final Battle  
  
Chapter Two: Truce  
  
  
  
Ron Weasley staggered backwards, his hands tightly pressed against his stomach. He, and like all of the other students in the great hall, was withering in pain. The impact of Voldemort's mighty hex was immediate and powerful. Up until now, he still could not believe what had happened over the past few minutes.  
  
He watched in awe and terror as the Death Eaters strode through the great hall, forming a circle of death surrounding the students and teachers, blocking all the passages in and out of the hall by positioning themselves around by the aisles.  
  
He saw, feeling like a ton of metal had just pressed over his gut, Voldemort, the evil Dark Lord himself walk in the hall, making every students alike gasp in horror and fear. Nobody knew what to do at the moment the feared Dark Lord walked in the great hall, like a king preparing to take over a kingdom that was originally his. He strode in with great confidence and an almighty stature that frightened both students and teachers alike.  
  
Peculiarly, the only thing that he can think of was Hermione Granger. His dear and beautiful Hermione. She was the one who first entered his mind the moment terror and shock overcame every single person in the great hall. He was worried about her, even after those many awful things that had happened between them and their friendship. He still cared for her greatly even though he knows that she would never feel the same way about him. She would never feel the way he feels about her right now. With his hot blood surging through his veins every bloody time that he get just a little glimpse of her bushy dark brown hair and her exquisite eyes.  
  
He frankly didn't know what had caused this indescribable feelings surging into his brain. She was his best friend and he was hers. They could never be more than that and Ron knew that painful truth. He's not stupid, he knows how this ill world works. You can never fall in love with your best friend because it always ends badly. Things would just only be too complicated for him to even register to his brain and God knows that he doesn't want their almost perfect friendship ending just because of his own stupidity for not knowing what is right and what is obviously wrong.  
  
"Hope you like my little presentation and demo of what I can really do to you all if I wish." Voldemort announced a cold and cruel smile forming and the base of his thin, pale lips. "Consider it as a little sign that I do reign supreme right at this very moment, and you are required to please me and obey my every command."  
  
The Death Eaters smirked in their own vindictive ways watching in great delight what was happening all around them.  
  
"I hope you can get my little message through you thick wizarding moronic heads." Voldemort said. "I hope I made myself clear, my dear Dumbledore."  
  
As Ron could see, Dumbledore is just mildly affected by the impenetrable hex that Voldemort has set on them. If it was because the Dark Lord himself purposely excluded the headmaster from the curse or if just that Dumbledore is just too strong for the hex to work on him, Ron might never know.  
  
"You are making a very big mistake here, Voldemort." Dumbledore replied. "Justice will still prevail. Trust me on that."  
  
Voldemort just looked mildly amused.  
  
"All those people you killed, all those lives you destroyed," the famous, but dangerous when put to the test headmaster, said. "Will all come back to you in their own special ways. You will not reign supreme in the wizarding world without the deadly circumstances. There will come a time, Voldemort. There will come a time. It may not be today or tomorrow. You can even kill us all right at this very moment, but what good will it do to you?"  
  
"You are full of gibberish, Dumbledore. You know that?" the feared Dark Lord replied. "Your mouth is moving and there are sounds coming out but I could not comprehend anything with even a remote sense to what you are saying."  
  
Ron found it peculiar that a Dark Lord even has his sense of humor, how ever sick it may be. But in his opinion, it even makes him the more annoying and infuriating to deal with.  
  
It was obvious that Dumbledore was feeling the same way.  
  
"Once I kill that Potter boy, full power will be bestowed on me once again, and I will rule the whole wizarding world and even kill all those stupid and dim-witted muggles roaming around their world and I too will rule them. The mud-bloods will be gone like bubble and only the pure blooded wizards faithful to me will have my mercy of being alive." Voldemort said, the whole great hall shaking in fear and morification at the Dark Lord's voice and words. "You can trust me on THAT, Dumbledore. That I surely assure you."  
  
Still withering in pain, Ron wondered if he would ever see a day as bright as the day they were on the Quidditch field, just practicing and laughing with his most trusted friends, as Harry talked to them about the new statistics and strategies of the game. How he wished that he could replay that pure moment again right now with his stomach feels like it's being stabbed by hundreds of thick sharp knives.  
  
But of course, as ever, that stupid Malfoy had to wreck his almost perfect scene once again.  
  
  
  
===***===***===***===  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione trooped down to where the rest of the team waited at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. Seamus, who had been made a Chaser just that year, was already there, standing next to Ginny and the third Chaser, Elizabeth Thomas, Dean's younger sister. A little ways away stood the Creevey brothers, who, Hermione suspected, had been made Beaters primarily because they were brothers, and there was a certain superstition regarding the luckiness of having siblings team up as Beaters. They greeted Harry and the others with a cheerful waving of broomsticks.  
  
Hermione dropped back towards the stands, content to watch, her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages on hand in case Harry needed it for reference material. Not that he ever did. He had been nervous about being made team captain, but he needn't have been; he turned out to be as good at strategizing as he was at flying. Hermione suspected he kept an elaborate mental map of the Quidditch field in his head and referred to it at will.  
  
"All right," he was saying now, consulting some notes he had scribbled on a bit of parchment, "I think this time we should work on coordinating better, and telegraphing our moves less. Seamus, you need to be quicker on the turns. Elizabeth, I've got an idea -"  
  
"Actually, I've got an idea," interrupted a drawling voice. "Why don't you all just bugger off, since you've got no business being here in the first place?"  
  
It was Draco, of course, in green Quidditch robes, surrounded by the rest of his team. He was flanked by his Chasers: Blaise Zabini, Malcolm Baddock, and Graham Pritchard. Behind him, looking menacing, were the Beaters: Tess Hammond and Milicent Bulstrode, the largest and ugliest girls in school. Bringing up the rear was Dex Flint, a sharp-faced but handsome fifth-year who played as Keeper.  
  
Draco reached out a lazy hand, took the parchment out of Harry's grip, looked at it with mild disinterest, and let it drop into the snow. " We have the Quidditch pitch booked for practice right now," he said, in a voice like syrup poured over broken glass. "I know you Gryffindors aren't the brightest lot, but I did at least think you could tell time properly."  
  
Harry didn't change expression. "We signed up for this practice last week," he said flatly. "Go and check the book."  
  
"Yes, I saw that," said Draco, lazily twirling his broomstick. If he'd had a moustache, Hermione was sure he would have twirled that too. "But I must confess that when I approached Madam Hooch, she was a little bit distracted and busy with something that she just handed me the log book for me to sign in it myself. She didn't even notice when I wrote right over your name. You know, you've got a very girly signature, Potter. You should work on that."  
  
"You dishonest creep," said Elizabeth, her two pigtails trembling with rage.  
  
"I'm a Slytherin," said Draco, giving her a smile that would have melted solid steel, although it didn't have much effect on Elizabeth. "It's in the job description."  
  
"This trick won't work more than once, Malfoy," said Harry, his green eyes narrowed. "Madam Hooch won't trust you again."  
  
"It only needs to work once." Draco shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Potter. Where were you when they were handing out brains?"  
  
"I don't know," said Harry, his voice dripping acid. "I'm afraid I accidentally got in line for 'shred of moral decency' instead."  
  
"It must have been quite a long line," said Draco. "Apparently you were also too late for 'good looks', 'fashion sense', and 'witty repartee.'"  
  
Ron started forward. Harry hauled him back by the collar of his robes. "I think you've been spending too much time in that dungeon, Malfoy," Ron spat, struggling to get free of Harry's grip. "The lack of natural light must have rotted your brain."  
  
"Oh, right, because you lot live in a tower," said Draco, his voice filled with heavy sarcasm. "A great, big, pointy, thrusting tower. Just the right place for little boys who maybe feel a little.... inadequate? Overcompensating, are we?"  
  
Harry hit him. Draco staggered rather theatrically back into the arms of his teammates, then straightened up and started for Harry, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he went.  
  
Hermione closed her book and sighed, bored and irritated. Oh for goodness' sake, she thought. Not this again.  
  
"Malfoy, you selfless inconsiderable git!" Harrly bellowed, staggering back when Draco's fist connected with his now sore cheek. "What is your problem? Or are you really just purposely trying to make my life a living hell. Because I've got news for you, it already is."  
  
"Don't be so dense, Potter." He said, as a cold cruel but briefly amusing to look at smirk manifested itself on Draco's beautiful lips. The kind of smirk that Hogwart's girls, whatever level or house that they may be in go all gooey with. "Just fulfilling my responsibility of making sure that you Gryffindor lot, wouldn't be oh-so proud of your none existing accomplishments and your supposed to be contemporary wit. Because, newsflash! Just be honest and admit that you all blokes graduated with a major in 'dumb planning' from the Idiot's University. And Potter here, sat at the feet of the master and learned astonishingly well how to plan dumbly. So we wouldn't be surprised at all if we defeat you guys in the upcoming Quidditch match."  
  
"Don't worry, Malfoy" Harry said, with visible annoyance in his voice. "I'm sure that nobody will really be that flabbergasted when you guys are AGAIN proven to be wrong by us winning, not only the Quidditch match but the House Cup as well. I think we already proved that for the past six years."  
  
"So, you think you're all smart and superior now, don't you?" Draco said, looking mildly pleased that his mere presence is affecting his counterparts. "Ok, let's just see about that."  
  
Draco suddenly threw himself upon Harry, and because Harry wasn't expecting the sudden attack, was brought to the ground by the force of the strike.  
  
===***===***===***===  
  
"Potter, wait up!" Harry heard a voice call from behind him as he walked bruised and a little tired and irritated, away from the Quidditch field that lazy afternoon after the ramble that had just happened, free from all his teammates.  
  
Apparently, the fight that he and that stupid Malfoy git was having got a little too loud, both because of the cheers, insults and the angry shouts of their own rival teammates and their furious and mean comebacks that Professor Mc Gonagall heard their incoherent bellowing and finally broke the pointless and silly argument off. The two boys were pointlessly questioned by the strict Transfiguration teacher, both of them saying that the other started it, which Professor Mc Gonagall obviously did not believe or just too busy to care about anything else. But fortunately, she just let them go with just a warning, and both of the team's supposedly Quidditch practice was cancelled, due to Mc Gonagall's fury and the student's fear of the spectacled and stern teacher.  
  
Harry turned around, already knowing who's idiotic mouth the usual self- considerate voice is from. After all, just a few minutes ago, he was fighting for his life against the owner of the voice's lethal paws. He suddenly regretted leaving his teammates to go for a nice long walk by himself.  
  
He unsurprisingly saw Draco Malfoy coming over to him, his broomstick still clasped on his left hand. Apparently, he too had stayed behind when the Slytherin team went sulkily away, out from the Quidditch field, still disappointed that they didn't get to practice that afternoon. Why he as coming after Harry, he could only guess.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?!" Harry impatiently asked. He definitely has no time for the blond git's stupid ramblings.  
  
"Don't be so rude, Potter." Draco calmly said, obviously taking his time in diminishing the space between them. "I'm only here to help you after all."  
  
"What?!" Harry asked, incredulously. What did Malfoy ate that morning? Maybe he had too much Pumpkin Juice that his head is going a little nutty. "What can you help me with, Malfoy?"  
  
"Don't judge me immediately, Potter! Don't think of me as just a stupid, selfish git." Draco suddenly bellowed, that Harry unconsciously jumped back now that they're only inches away from each other. "I know that people only think of me as that little spoiled rich boy that has everything from looks and money to indescribable and incomparable wit."  
  
This had caused Harry to redden from a bit of anger. It had never failed to surprise him of how Malfoy can go from self-depriving himself to glorifying his good fortune.  
  
"But I'm definitely not stupid and I know things that many people don't, and the ones who does wished they hadn't. I've seen things that others die from being drowned by the terrible view of the suffocating environment of endless and sudden deaths. I am more than what you and the others think of me and I know things that I reckon that you should know."  
  
"As much as I appreciate your unsurpassed and heart-wrenching speech," Harry said, sarcastically. "Frankly, I'm just relieved that you're finally getting to the point. whatever it is."  
  
"Don't mock me, you inadequate slug!" Draco threateningly said, his voice dropping down to almost a whisper. "Remember that I'm the one here who's doing you a favor."  
  
"A favor?" Harry asked, still not convinced that Draco was up to anything good or at least placidly important. "And what might that be?"  
  
"He's coming, Potter." Draco said. The slight fear and menace clear in his syrupy voice.  
  
He waited for Harry's reaction, which betrays unfortunately nothing.  
  
"Don't tell me you don't know. you don't feel it every minute and second you walk through this enchanted grounds."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry answered, somewhat defiantly.  
  
"Oh, come on Potter!" Draco exclaimed, raising his arms into the air in frustration. He is really getting fed up with the endless circles that their conversation is going to. "Don't pretend and hide from the truth! You're the boy-who-lived for goodness sakes! Don't pretend that you have not been suffering from that skull wrenching little scar-aches that you have been suffering from every night since the term started!"  
  
Harry looked aghast. But he did not say anything.  
  
"You know what those headaches mean. but yet you choose to ignore these warnings. SIGNS! About what's going to happen. who else is going to die."  
  
"SHUT UP! Just, be quiet!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to wince and step back a little. "Don't act like you know what's happening with me and how difficult my suppose to be perfect life is, with my popularity and fame and all that! Don't act as if you know me, Malfoy. don't pretend to know what exactly I am feeling right now. Because you don't."  
  
It took a moment for Draco to retaliate from Harry's outburst, but surprisingly, he just smirked his usual grating expression and calmly said. "So that's what you're going to do?"  
  
Harry looked at him in the eye for the first time since they had been having this conversation.  
  
"That's what you're going to do, you're going to let them get taken by the enemy. you're going to let them die."  
  
"Why do you care, Malfoy?! What do you want me to do, anyway?" Harry suddenly cut him off. His own anger and his own fear is slowly eating him away, every minute and every morning that he felt that his head might explode from the indescribable pain that he had to endure every time he woke up once again from another terrifying nightmare, concerning the Dark Lord.  
  
"Why do I care? Hmmm. that's actually a good question for a. you know. dim Gryffindor like you." Draco said, still as composed as ever. A contrary to what Harry was suffering from.  
  
Harry let the insult go unnoticed, for he was feeling weaker and more drained than ever.  
  
"You going to answer the question?"  
  
"Frankly, I have no idea." Draco finally answered after a long pause for thought. "Maybe I just care a little more than you all think."  
  
Another long silence followed but somehow, the awkwardness and the intimidation were drained from their discussion. Harry didn't know how or why but in one way or another, he felt kind of. civil, at least, to Malfoy, who he dubbed as his mortal enemy in his seven years in Hogwarts. Maybe, he is trying to help.  
  
  
  
===***===***===***===  
  
A/N: This chapter's a little short and not as cheerful as I promised, or not as I intended it to be, and it's actually full of angsty goodness. Next will be a fluffy one, I can assure you. And I know that Draco is a little bit OC in this chapter, but he'll be back to his old, lovable but prickly self again in the future chapters. (",)  
  
  
  
READ? REVIEW! 


	3. We Attack Voldemort with Cheese

The Final Battle  
  
Author: Althea (altheacarnay@yahoo.com)  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, only the plot. The characters belong to the wonderful JK Rowling whose infuriating numerous fans because Book 5 will not be coming out until June 2003. There are also various quotes taken from the shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.  
  
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, with the help and support of the other houses. Set on Harry's 7th year in Hogwarts, he must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help. In this chapter, we see the continuation of Draco and Harry's truce and what Draco is really trying to tell Harry and how he can help him. The group meets at the library and fluff and angst ensues. WARNING: Major character death.  
  
Spoilers: All four books.  
  
Pairings: they're complicated, really. H/hr hr/r hr/d d/g h/g (no slash well, maybe just a little)  
  
The Final Battle  
  
Chapter Three:  
  
"You WHAT?" Ron yelled, sputtering the chicken from his mouth into the table before him, causing the other students to look at them in distraction and disgust.  
  
"Food goes in, Ron," Harry kindly said. "Not out."  
  
They were at the great hall, having their breakfast when Harry told them about that little conversation that he had with Draco the day before, after their slight quarrel over the Quidditch field. It seemed to be a good idea, Harry earlier reckoned, to tell them this fact at breakfast time, but obviously, he had been wrong.  
  
"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione said, gently. Harry knew that she's just trying to contain her bewilderment at the idea of Harry and Draco talking to each other like civilized people. "What were you thinking?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Harry answered. "When he called me and I turned around, I just unknowingly saw his unbelievable flexed muscles and shining blond hair, looked at his gorgeous face that suddenly I felt this fast rhythmic beating of my heart and right at that moment, I just fell-"  
  
"THAT IS NOT FUNNY!" Hermione shouted, looking both appalled and sickened by what Harry was saying. "You shouldn't be making jokes about that!"  
  
"Yeah, I know it isn't," Harry said, smiling his mischievous smile that has never failed to make Hermione's heart beat wildly. She alarmingly felt heat rush to her cheeks, making it beat red. She suddenly bowed down low and stared at the porridge she was having for breakfast.  
  
"You ok, Herm?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione answered meekly, hoping against hope that her face's color wouldn't show too much or else she'd have a time explaining why.  
  
"Back to the point," Ron said. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? How much proof do you need to realize that Draco Malfoy, or any Malfoy thereof cannot be trusted? He's just probably playing with your brain."  
  
"Successfully," Hermione added.  
  
"Look, guys," Harry said. "Even if how much you think that Draco would eat me alive because of his hatred, I obviously got back ok. He's not a monster, you know."  
  
"Yeah, but close," Hermione grumbled.  
  
"Very close," Ron agreed.  
  
"Oh, and I forgot to tell you... he asked me to meet him in the library," Harry said. "And he also said that it would be a good idea if you guys go with me too."  
  
"What for?" Ron asked suspiciously.  
  
"Well, we didn't actually get to finish what we were talking about yesterday... So..."  
  
"So, it's a perfect opportunity to blew him off!" Ron suggested, a wide grin forming on his freckled face.  
  
"What? No!" Harry answered; somewhat shocked to find how inconsiderate and mean his best friends could be if push comes to shove.  
  
"Will you look at that? Who knew that there would come a time that our Harry Potter would actually defend that idiot git Malfoy! Whatever happened to our once sane world?" Ron sarcastically said.  
  
"I don't trust him, Harry," Hermione spoke up. "He might be innocent looking on the outside if he really tried, but a few minutes of being a little well-mannered while having a conversation with his dubbed mortal enemy does not diminish all those horrible things that he did this past six years! And it doesn't erase the fact that he's a Slytherin and therefore could not be trusted."  
  
"You say Slytherin like it's a bad thing," Harry mused.  
  
"It is a bad thing," Ron answered.  
  
"What is with you two?" Harry asked incredulously. Truth be told, he really doesn't know why he was defending Malfoy, of all people. It seemed so out of character to him, but somewhere deep in his gut, he really felt that Draco could actually help him and that he wasn't just playing with his mind like what Hermione and Ron was saying. "Why are you two making such a big deal out of this? There is nothing wrong with him!"  
  
"There is everything wrong with him!" Ron exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Come to think of it, there is actually NOTHING right with him!"  
  
"You're not making sense, Ron," Hermione said.  
  
"I don't care," he answered back, stubbornly.  
  
"Why won't you just give him a chance?" Harry persuaded, but then, his eyes went to the Slytherin table, and stopped in mid-sentence.  
  
Hermione and Ron too looked and saw Malfoy himself, arriving in the Great Hall and taking his seat in the Slytherin table, as usual surrounded by his goons Crabbe and Goyle and other slutty female Slyths.  
  
"Speaking of the Devil," Ron mused.  
  
But Harry continued to stare, as if transfixed by a trance that just drew him to the devil himself. It was Hermione who noticed that.  
  
"Harry," Hermione spoke up, her heartbeat doubling inside her ribcage. "Why are you staring at him like that?"  
  
Harry ignored her. Hermione grew more nervous.  
  
"You're straight, right? Please don't tell me you're turning into a homosexual gay guy," She pleaded and asked. "Are you?"  
  
"What?" Ron looked at her with an expression of somebody who had just swallowed a marble. Hermione disregarded him.  
  
"And if you are... I guess that's ok... but... just please... please, please, please, NOT Malfoy! I got it! You can have Ron instead! He's so much better-"  
  
"What?" Ron's expression just turned from swallowing a marble to actually choking to death. "Hermione! Stop it! That's disgusting!"  
  
"Is it?" Hermione answered, it's quite clear that her sanity is nowhere near the Great Hall at the moment. "I mean, if that's what Harry really is, would you find that disgusting? There's really nothing wrong with being homo-"  
  
"Hermione! What's wrong with you?" Ron bellowed, causing other Gryffindors near their table to look at them, curiosity evident in their eyes. "Harry! Help me out here."  
  
"What?" Harry, still looking a little off course said, looking at Ron and Hermione and the current Ron-shaking-Hermione-and-Hermione-babbling- incoherently dance that they were both performing right then and there. Harry would have laughed if not for the expression of bewilderment in Ron's face.  
  
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked gently as Ron stopped shaking her.  
  
She then looked at him and suddenly turned beat red.  
  
"I'm-I'm alright," she answered, her face now resembling the Gryffindor Quidditch Team uniforms. She looked at them both, Ron at her left and Harry at her right and quickly said, "I-I have to go now... bye! See you later!"  
  
And with that, she's off. To the library, Ron's guess is.  
  
The two guys Hermione left just looked at each other and shrugged, and said to themselves that whatever they do, even if the world turned three hundred and sixty degrees, they will just never understand girls.  
  
*()*()*()*()*()*  
  
Oh god! What was I thinking? Hermione thought as she made her way to the library, deciding to spend her remaining minutes before her first class in there. And also to drown in self-pity.  
  
She had absolutely no idea what had came to her earlier that morning in the Great Hall, when she saw her dear Harry looking at that Draco Malfoy at the other side of the massive room. She just felt this cutting pain of jealousy and the dread and fear that her love might be...  
  
She is really losing her sanity, she could tell.  
  
What exactly is with her and Harry Potter? Every time he looks at her with those fantastic round brilliant green eyes, her heart just begins to pound uncontrollably and her cheeks suddenly feels so hot and the next thing she knew-  
  
Ok, enough with the sappy 'Dawson's Creek' love descriptions. She already had enough of muggle television that previous vacation. What she needed to do is get a hold of herself and her sanity and forget all of her feelings to her best friend. But of course, easier said than done.  
  
She got to the entrance of the library and pushed the door open. Unsurprisingly, the wooden chairs and tables of the learning resource center were unoccupied since it was so early in the morning. Most of her schoolmates are probably still asleep at this time. She went to the farthest and most private table that she could find and settled herself into the hard but comfortable chair. She opened her bag pack and pulled a small, fairly thick wizarding pocketbook that she was currently reading, set it on top of the table and prepared herself for a few minutes of peace and quiet together with her healthy dose of fiction literature.  
  
"What's with the long face, Mudblood?" an arrogant syrupy sweet voice spoke up from behind her, just a few minutes later. She did not need to turn around because she already knew whom the voice is from.  
  
Malfoy.  
  
Who else?  
  
And who knew that a few minutes of peace and quiet is just too much to wish for?  
  
"Go away, Malfoy," Hermione said and stared coldly up at that exquisite gray eyes.  
  
"No, I won't," Draco answered, irritating her more by sitting at the chair across from her. "Didn't Potter told you about that little meeting that we're all supposed to have?"  
  
"Yes he did," she answered, her eyes not leaving the book that she's reading.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I'm not sorry to inform you that we do not believe in that crap you told Harry yesterday afternoon," Hermione said, finally giving up and shutting her book with a loud 'bang' just for emphasis. "Go away and look for somebody else narrow-minded enough to believe your bogus stories." She shoved her book back into her bag pack and prepared to leave.  
  
"So you think it's all just phony stories, Mudblood?" Draco exclaimed, standing up and blocking Hermione's path to the front door of the library. "And here I thought you are much wiser than that."  
  
Just what exactly is with Malfoy and the racist word 'Mudblood'? Doesn't he know that Hermione is already used to that word and it does not affect her anymore like old times?  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked.  
  
"What do you think?" Draco answered, a cruel and amused smirk creeping up his face.  
  
"Ok, that's it!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and walking past Malfoy. "If you want to be all cryptic and unspecific, fine by me. Go talk to yourself."  
  
"Hey!" Draco shouted after her but it was too late. She had already left the library and was rushing to her first class, which is Charms that Gryffindors shared with Slytherins.  
  
And whoever did said that this day is turning into hell?  
  
*()*()*()*()*()*  
  
"Hey, that's a bit rude," Draco said in a way of greeting as he entered little Filtwick's classroom and settled himself at an empty seat beside an irritated and aggravated looking Hermione. "We weren't finished talking."  
  
"Oh, we were," Hermione said. "There's nothing else left for us to talk about."  
  
Draco gazed at the brown and frizzy mane that was attached on Hermione's head and continued to examine her face especially her eyes and cheeks. He knew that she noticed that he was examining her just by looking at her once pale cheeks that are now turning into a soft shade of red. And this knowledge made Draco smile just for the faintest and untraceable time.  
  
He's turning on the Draco Charm and it was working. He could tell.  
  
"What?" Hermione snapped at him, making him smirk more. "What do you want? Why are you staring at me like that? Why are you harassing me?"  
  
"Harassing you?"  
  
"Yes! Why are you sitting there? That is not your seat! You're not even supposed to be speaking with me!" she exclaimed. "What has gotten into you?"  
  
"No, what has gotten into YOU. That is the question," Draco said, enjoying every moment of their heated argument. He likes driving people out of control while he, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber. "And for your information, I have every right to be here! This is a free country! I can seat wherever I want and do whatever I want. I could strip and sing the National Anthem on top of Filtwick's table if I wanted to, but I thought that that would be rude since you lot are so serious about getting ready for that scheduled written quiz that we have this morning."  
  
"Quiz?" Hermione gasped, cold and almost comic dread creeping into her face. "What quiz? There's a scheduled quiz?"  
  
"Don't you remember, Mudblood?" Draco airily said. "Filtwick told us about it already a week ago. I'm surprised to see that you haven't studied."  
  
"Oh, dear Lord!" Hermione screeched once again, quickly grabbing her schoolbooks and began flipping the pages randomly in a rapid and exaggerated manner.  
  
"Don't worry," Draco spoke up once again, much to Hermione's annoyance. "I'm sure you'll pass since you've practically read the whole set of 7th year schoolbooks. Just not with flying colors."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy." she snapped. "Unlike other people presumably like you, I actually take great care of my grades and schoolwork since I want to have a respectable future. God knows I don't want to end up like what you're going to end up like."  
  
"And what might that be?"  
  
"A hermit."  
  
"Hermit the frog?"  
  
"What? No!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked in genuine confusion.  
  
"You're going to end up like those solitary persons who don't have anybody in this world because of their mean personality and repulsive character," Hermione said. "A recluse and a loner is what you'll become when time comes." She stopped her panic review and closed her book in mock surrender. "And by the way, it's Kermit the Frog, not Hermit."  
  
"Same difference." Draco answered. He knew that he had her then, no matter how scornful Hermione's attitude to him is.  
  
Just at that moment, tiny Professor Filtwick strode in into their classroom and began to start his lesson on Telekinesis Charms, with no sign whatsoever of that scheduled quiz that Draco was talking about. After a few minutes of discussion, Hermione turned to Draco who's still sitting at the seat beside her, a fiery anger and infuriation present in her eyes.  
  
And even before Hermione could speak, Draco purposely beat her to it.  
  
"Hey, no one told you to take my word for it," Draco said, that grating sneer still present on his handsome face.  
  
"You are so ANNOYING!" Hermione exclaimed. A little too loud in that matter since Professor Filtwick and almost half of the students in the classroom was distracted and started to look in their way.  
  
"What can I say, I'm a Slyth," Draco replied, as if that explains everything.  
  
"Ms. Granger, I suggest that you take your little love argument with Mr. Malfoy outside, or endure forty more minutes of listening to me and paying attention to the lesson, THEN continue your heated and passionate disagreement with young Malfoy," Professor Filtwick said, the whole class staring at Hermione and Draco. Hermione felt blood on her veins rush to her cheeks. "Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"I wasn't-" Hermione started to say when it was Draco who spoke up.  
  
"Crystal, Professor," He said which earned a few giggles from the female population of the classroom.  
  
"Perfect," the infinitesimal teacher replied, turning around and picking up the chalk that was rudely left behind the moment that he was distracted by young Ms. Granger. "Let's continue then,"  
  
Professor Filtwick started again his teaching and Hermione was left with a burning cheek and a destroyed reputation. After about thirty-five minutes of staring at the board, still too humiliated with what happened to pay attention properly, the bell finally rang and Hermione was practically the first one to go out of the classroom.  
  
"Hey, wait!" Once again, she heard that infuriating voice behind her. She quickened her steps in a vain attempt to get away from him.  
  
No such luck.  
  
"Stop!" Draco shouted, stuck in a throng of student's walking the other way. When he finally got free from the suffocating bodies, he ran towards her and caught up. Barely. "Stop, for Christ's sake! You're giving me a heart attack here!"  
  
"Will do the world a lot good if you did have a heart attack," Hermione snapped, still walking as fast as she can without making a fool out of herself.  
  
"I'm so-" Draco was supposed to say when he somehow caught himself. "No, wait, I'm not going to apologize. Malfoys do not apologize!"  
  
"Good to hear that," Hermione replied sarcastically.  
  
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, now parallel to Hermione's step. He then noticed the massive loads of books that she was carrying and said. "Here, let me take those."  
  
"No!" she shouted, wrenching the books away from him.  
  
"Hey, I'm just being a gentleman here!" he said.  
  
"Well, just do me a favor and don't!" Hermione retorted. "Being a gentleman does not suit you."  
  
"Really?" Draco replied. "And what does suit me?"  
  
"Standing up to your reputation of being a self-considerate bastard is what suits you," Hermione said, taking a sharp right turn at a corner. Draco reckoned that she's on her way to the library. Again.  
  
A few minutes later, with Draco still tailing at Hermione's back, they finally reached the library and Hermione strode in, pushing the door open with little effort. Draco had sensed, a few minutes ago that Hermione decided that if she can't get Draco off her back, she's also willing to ignore his presence completely. And that too is entirely okay with him.  
  
They entered the library and Draco looked around, noticing the obvious change that the library had undergone. From the barren room and empty seats that the library was just a few hours ago, the seats are now occupied by various students from all houses and levels, and even a few teachers. Hermione started to go left, passing by dozens of rectangle tables filled with various books, and Draco could see why she did so.  
  
Harry, Ron together with Ginny were sitting at the table on the far right side of the library surrounded with books in all sizes and shapes. They seemed to be researching for something and was completely engrossed in what they are doing that they did not noticed that Hermione, with Draco still tailing at her back, was approaching their table. They just became aware of Hermione's presence when she sat at an empty chair beside Ron.  
  
"What are you guys doing?" she asked, laying the load of books that she was carrying on top of the table and shoving away some of the thick volumes that Harry and Ron got from the library in the process.  
  
"Researching about this stupid assignment that Trelawny gave us," Harry answered without looking up, his head still buried under the voluminous book that he was currently reading. "A fifty-inch essay about stars outside the milky way and how it affects the future. Full of crap, I assure you."  
  
"I told you a dozen times already to drop that subject," Hermione replied. "But no, you two just got to torture yourselves."  
  
"Hey, it wasn't our fault if Trelawny's temper today was hotter than her classroom!" Ron said, finally laying the book down on the table with a loud bang.  
  
"Hey! Seems like I'm going to get my meeting after all," Draco drawled after some time of beautiful silence, taking the other empty seat beside Ginny.  
  
Ginny looked at him as if she saw a space alien drop from the sky and landed beside her.  
  
"Hello!" Draco annoyingly greeted, sitting at the table as if he's part of the group. "Gina, is it?"  
  
Ginny remained silent and continued to stare as is she saw a drop-dead gorgeous space alien drop from the sky and landed beside her.  
  
"It's Ginny, Malfoy," Ron said with gritted teeth. "G-I-N-N-Y. Ginny! What are you doing here anyway?"  
  
Virginia Weasley just remained quiet while thinking about what her brother said. Ginny Malfoy, she liked the sound of that.  
  
"I told you," Draco replied. "We're supposed to have that little get together in the library, but you guys clearly blew me off. Lucky me that Granger cared enough to show up, even without her friends."  
  
"I did not-"  
  
"Don't deny it, Granger," Draco said. "Word's already out that you want to make mad passionate love to me and that we having a conversation at the library is the closest thing that you can get. Don't worry, we won't tell to the first years. Lord knows what they'll do if they heard about the rumor. You might wake up without any of that brown mop that you call hair, Granger."  
  
"You really are a negligible conceited prat, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, her eyes portraying her anger and irritation.  
  
"Hey, I'm trying to discuss serious matters here! Don't try to drive me off course!" Draco said. "I thought you're the do-good group. Don't you care about people's lives?"  
  
"Look who's talking." Ron quipped.  
  
"What was that supposed to mean?" Draco asked.  
  
"Back to the point, Malfoy," Hermione said. "If you do have one," she added. "Why are you here? Why were you stalking me since this morning?"  
  
"Stalking you?" Both Draco and Ron exclaimed.  
  
"He was stalking you?" Ron said. "Herm, this is a critical topic! We should report this to Dumbledore!"  
  
"Oh, please, don't be absurd!" Draco reasoned. "I was not stalking or harassing you in any way, Granger. And I never will. God knows what that will do to my reputation," he added as an after thought. "I was only trying to get your attention and to listen to me."  
  
"Oh, yes," Ron said. "Because you have such intelligent things to say."  
  
"So you're asking why? Why? Because people will die, you stupid Gryffindor imbeciles!" Draco exclaimed. "That's why."  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"Didn't The Boy Who Felt His Scar Hurting Every Damn Day Since The Term Started tell you?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.  
  
Harry looked down at the book in front of him guiltily.  
  
"Harry, is it true?" Hermione asked.  
  
Draco could tell that she was getting worried again over nothing. That is if you consider Harry's scar hurting as a nothing.  
  
"Yes," Harry responded, his eyes not leaving the book. "But it's really not that serious, believe me."  
  
"How could we when you've been lying to us about that all year long?" Ron coldly replied.  
  
Ooh, and are we finally going to get a taste of Gryffindor Wrath? Draco wondered as he watched the anxiety of the scene in silence. He had never seen a Gryffindor fight with a Gryffindor before, mainly because he reckoned that they're such a sweet lot who will never do anything bad to their housemates. This is going to be a very interesting day, Draco could tell.  
  
"I have not been lying to you, I've just been keeping it a secret in order to not worry anybody," Harry reasoned. "It's nothing really."  
  
"Harry, what has gotten into you?" Hermione asked, as she looked at him with those great round eyes. "Didn't we make a pact that there's no secrets that shall ever come between us? Harry, what were you thinking?"  
  
"I just don't want you guys to worry," Harry replied. "Like what you are doing right now."  
  
"We have every right to be worried!" Hermione exclaimed. "You know what those Scar-Attacks mean! How can you be so unperturbed about this? Think of what will happen to innocent lives if Voldemort suddenly attacks?"  
  
"That's exactly what I mean!" Draco said, still a little disappointed about the calm and peaceful disagreement that these Gryffindor bunch had been having. No Gryffindor Wrath for Draco after all.  
  
"Ok, fine, I'm sorry," said Harry. "Draco talk. What's the meaning of all these?"  
  
"What do those things mean? Let me think-"  
  
"Cut the crap, Draco," Hermione snapped. "We haven't got much time."  
  
"Oh, yes, that's where you're right, Granger. You have a working brain after all!" sneered Draco then turning oddly serious. "We don't have much time, that's true."  
  
"Don't have much time for what?" Ron asked. "Before what?"  
  
"Voldemort." Ginny suddenly spoke up, causing the whole group to stop and stare at the young red-head who suddenly turned pasty white, her eyes unfocused and nervousness evident in it.  
  
"How." Draco stared, somehow speechless.  
  
"He will come." Ginny continued in a slow and frightening voice. "here."  
  
"Ginny, are you all right?" Ron worriedly said. Then he turned and glared ferociously at Draco. "What have you done to Ginny, Draco?"  
  
"What?" Draco exclaimed, surprised. "I did not do anything to her! I'm as much confused, though not as worried, as you all are right now."  
  
"Ron, I'm ok," Ginny said, finally snapping out of her mystical trance. "I. I just felt it. That's all."  
  
"Felt what?" Draco asked.  
  
"Dark Magic," Hermione answered for her. "She always does that since her first year here in Hogwarts."  
  
"Ok, so now what? What do we do now?" Harry spoke up. "If what Ginny's saying is true, how do we defeat the Dark Lord or stop him from coming here?"  
  
"That's the problem," Draco answered. "We can't."  
  
"What do you mean we can't?"  
  
"He's too powerful, he's got too many allies," Draco replied, looking at each of them one by one. "What we can do is just formulate a plan of what we can and will do when he finally attacks. I mean, nobody even knows where he is right now, and still half of the wizarding population is still in denial that the Dark Lord already came back."  
  
"This is too hopeless," Hermione grumbled. "We have to tell Dumbledore about this. We need his help."  
  
"There's a concrete plan," Draco said. "The only problem is, will he believe you? We're only brainless students in his opinion, and I think that dim-witted children barging in his office and telling him that Voldemort will attack Hogwarts anytime soon will look pretty stupid and implausible."  
  
"Dumbledore is not like that," Harry defended. "He's-"  
  
"Please Harry, save me your Dumbledore-is-great lecture," Draco cut him off. "I don't really need that right now."  
  
"Can we talk about this some other time?" Ron suddenly spoke up. "I think Ginny's not feeling well."  
  
"Ah, figures," Draco scorned. "You Weasley kids are such sissies about a harmless little headache."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry warned, then he turned towards Ron who is now cradling Ginny's head on his shoulders. "Ron, you can take Ginny to the hospital wing if you like and let Madam Pomfrey look at it. Hermione and I will go and visit Hagrid. It's been a while since we paid him a visit."  
  
"What?" Draco exclaimed. "You're going to tell that stupid giant everything?"  
  
"None of your business, Malfoy," Hermione answered. "You go and do whatever it is that you Slytherins do and leave us alone for the rest of the day. It'll save us the time and energy of listening to your stupid insults."  
  
"Fine," he replied. "Got to go back to the Slytherin Common Room anyway. I'm too overdosed right now with Gryffindor Goodness that I think I'm going to puke."  
  
Draco then left just a few seconds after Ron and Ginny did and proceeded to the Slytherin dormitories. That left Hermione and Harry to put back the library books to their proper shelves and go to Hagrid's hut to hopefully confide in him about the situation.  
  
*()*()*()*()*()*  
  
"Hagrid! Open up, it's us!" Harry shouted, as he knock on Hagrid's front door. He and Hermione had been banging on the wooden door for the past few minutes and still no answer, still no Hagrid. But they knew that he was there because Fang had been barking at them from the inside, and Hagrid never leaves his dog in the house unattended.  
  
"Maybe he's not in," Hermione suggested, rubbing her hands together in a vain attempt to fight off the cold night's air.  
  
"No, he's in, I'm sure," Harry answered. "Fang's inside."  
  
"Maybe he just forgot about him," Hermione again reasoned. She was ready to knock on the door with Harry when an awful and revolting smell reached her nose.  
  
And before she could even say, "Harry, what's that smell?" Harry blasted off the cabin's door and what they saw horrified both of them.  
  
Hagrid, the lovable and gentle teacher of Care of Magical Creatures was lying on the floor, drenched and covered with his own blood, flies flying around his decaying body. Hermione stumbled backward in disgust and repugnance. At least she now knows where the smell is coming from. But as you would have thought, she wished with all her being that she hadn't.  
  
*()*()*()*()*()*  
  
A/N: I am now building myself a flame-proof igloo for all Hagrid fans. This is my fic, my story, lay off. I'll kill whom I want to kill. (",) Yeah, I know, I should be locked in Azkaban for killing the lovable giant off. But hey! I bet that's he's the one who's going to be killed on OotP.  
  
REVIEW!!! 


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